Jaawu was mildly annoyed that he hit the wall. It brought back bad memories. But his main issue was that his chest hurt quite a bit. Nothing in his body was actually damaged, but it still was quite painful.
He usually tried to think the best of people, but this Makuta guy was starting to get a bit annoying, with the entire attacking thing and all. Like, it made sense, but there was ways to prove their usefulness that involved less violence.
Jaawu looked at the others and their current attempts to get the upper hand on Makuta and decided to just stay where he was for a minute. They seemed to be handling themselves just fine, and he needed a minute with his injury and all.
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Makuta slowly turned his head from side to side. For a moment his mask glowed, and his eyes appeared to regain their luster, but a sinister expression slid across Makutaâs face and they clouded over again.
The brick beneath him was beginning to heat up. Standing, Makuta quickly backpedaled to avoid the heat- and backed directly into Palios.
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Palios too noticed the increase in heat and had begun to reach out with his arm for something to help him stand up when he felt something collide with his shield which in turn produced a loud clang, Armor.
Karz! Iâm dead! Iâm dead! Iâm so dead! The panicked Okotan did the first and most illogical thing that came to his mind, Strike, and strike he did. Turning his shield sideways and aiming a blow with all his strength towards the back of what he assumed were Makutaâs legs.
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Makuta jolted at the impact of the edge of Paliosâ shield colliding with his legs at the very moment he was attempting to regain balance. However, Makuta had not earned the title of champion at arms by allowing unfortunate circumstances to take their collective toll.
Falling overtop Paliosâ back, he rolled backwards and landed on his feet, scooting back and allowing himself to regain his composure. He could not see - this would, perhaps, make the fight a little more fair. But blind or not, Makuta was still a very capable threat.
For whatever reason he was not attempting to regain his hammer.
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Seeing that the heat had not really done anything, Katau decided to reroute it to where Makuta was standing now, touching the tip of the sword to the floor.
Cheshie took a deep breath as she gazed up the mammoth flight stairs that greeted all who dare approach the forge. She readjusted her pack on her shoulder, then began her ascent. By the time she reached the top, two things began woefully apparent to her: she was far too out of breath, and the forgeâs gate was tightly shut. She paused, before tentatively giving the door a short but firm set of knocks. @Ghid
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Katau noticed a faint knocking sound. But he was too engrossed in the battle to pay much attention to it.
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The floor was taking an uncomfortably long time to heat up. In spite of this, however, no one else took any initiative to attack Makuta in the meantime. How disappointing.
Sensing the rising heat, and the absence of attack, Makuta suddenly threw his hand forward. The hammer carved across the walls of the room, shooting over the head of Jaawu and flying directly for Makuta. As it was about to strike him, Makuta put one foot up and kicked off the flat of the hammer, flying backwards through the air in an overly dramatic spin before landing near the door.
The opportunity to corner Makuta was gone. Now, the hammerseemed to have a mind of its own, spinning on the base of the handle in the spot where Makuta was a moment ago.
Makuta, however, felt about for the handle of the door. Somebody had been knocking.
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Jaawu wasnât sure what to do. His pain had mostly subsided, but everyone seemed to be doing fine as they were. He decided to just stay where he was.
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Cheshie took a step back from the doors, a mix of concern and confusion washing over her face. She heard the dull thumping of metal on metal emanating from beyond the doorway. Well, I guess Makuta must be hard at work making masksâŚagressively. Cheshie thought to herself as she stood patiently outside the door, adjusting her grip nervously on the pommel of her blade.
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A steady stream of obscenity seemed to have replaced any conscious thought. Ilya shook is head quickly, trying to clear his mind of the distracting level of adrenaline and fear.
He focused now on his belt, drawing out a small black clay pot, the size of his fist. It was a low-powered bomb with the most diminutive blast radius he could concoct. He hoped; they didnât exactly have a particularly good success rate. With his left hand he drew out a piece of flint, holding it between his middle and pointer fingers. He flicked his metallic thumb across it, shooting sparks towards the oiled wick of the bomb, desperately trying to ignite it.
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Palios Stood up- scratch that attempted to stand up, he was soon learning just how difficult it was to get your feet under you when youâre practically blind. As thankful as he was for that Quivering, substandard, second-rate jungle okotan- okay, wait, maybe he wasnât as thankful for the okotanâs bottle of blinding mist as he first thought. But hey, if anything was to be drawn from this horrible sequence of poor decisions, he had at least gotten a hit on Makuta.
Focus
Focus, he needed to get out of here- er, the mist that is, however if there was a way to leave the building he would very much like that.
Get out of the mist!
Yes, yes, the mist; that ever present issue he was currently experiencing, oh how he had begun to despise this mist in the past minute- why was the floor getting so hot?
STAND UP!
Yes, standing up should take priority, how else would one exit this cloud if we do not move? Plaios stabbed his short sword into the ground and used the new leverage to finally get his feet under him. At last, progress has been made! Palios followed up this ingenuous course of action by doing something just as brilliant. The aforementioned brilliant action was of course Retrieving his sword and simply walking forward, and he wouldnât stop walking until he bumped into something, something that might indicate to him that he had left the mist.
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After a couple tries the wick spits out sparks in every direction, burning slowly to its fated destination. The hammer was still spinning wildly on the tip of its handle in front of the party, and Makuta was fumbling about with the front door.
The sensation of air clearing from around his face told him that he had in fact cleared the mist, but his vision didnât seem to improve. Only a pinhole of light was showing through an otherwise impenetrable void.
However, his strategy to walk forward until he collided with something was an excellent one, until he hit something low to the ground which decidedly tripped him.
Jaawu had an excellent view of Palios struggling to stand, then walking directly into him and beginning to fall on him. It wasnât really clear what he was doing - outside of falling on you, that is.
Finally finding the handle, Makuta tensed for a moment and forced his eyes to slightly clear with a simple application of his mask power. Opening it just enough to see outside, his emotionless eye glared at Chesie.
âName.â
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Startled by the doorâs sudden movement, Cheshie immediately straitened up, her idle handing snapping to her side, and her hand firmly gripping the length of her javelin. âCheshie,â She replied resolutely, before adding a more tentative âsir.â at the end.
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Katau, after seeing his attack was for the most part ineffective, stopped trying to heat the floor. Instead, he looked around the room and saw that Makuta was standing by the door. This time, Katau tried to surprise Makuta by diving for his legs.
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Makuta looked to the side. There was some awful scraping and clattering going on which didnât seem to be directly connected to him since he was standing by the door.
âThere is a test occurring.â He said, stepping away from the door and pausing to stretch his neck. âWe will see how quickly you can catch up. Those inside are your allies, and IâŚâ
He threw the door open with a tilt of his head, and Cheshie felt a sudden motion which tossed her half the length of the room. âI expect you to improvise.â His eyes clouded over again, and he began stalking towards the assembled party, menacingly.
Makuta was a ways off, but as Katau approached he was barely quick enough to avoid getting clotheslined by a flying Cheshie. Now the mask maker was returning to the group; did he still wish to continue his dive?
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Ilya panicked, his eyes flicking over the tightly packed group of people by the door. He saw the unintended adverse affects of his first bomb - he didnât want to do something worse to these others.
The wick of the bomb grew disturbingly short. Ilya rotated to the left, in front of the forge, trying to find a window in which he could throw the bomb without hitting any of the others Okotans in the blast. If no such window could be found, he would be forced to either take the shot, or discard the projectile.
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There appeared to be an open window directly behind him. Large enough to admit any of the people in the room, although too far away to toss the bomb in time. Dear, that fuse looked awfully short-
There was a blinding flash of light directly in front of Ilya, and a sharp, searing line of pain across his palm. The bomb had exploded, butâŚ
Makutaâs hammer hit the ground. Across the room, the Mask Maker had his hand extended, his left hand gripping his right forearm, his mask glowing violently. The bomb had numerous cracks across its surface spilling out white light around them, frozen in midair mid-explosion.
A glance at Makuta would immediately reveal he was still blind, his eyes hazed over with that foul mist dumped on him from before.
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After that quick series of events, Katau decided to stop, and he tried to grab the floor to slow down and regain his feet.
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Cheshie rubbed the back of her head as she tried to gather her thoughts which were running wild around her mind. Makuta wasâŚfighting other okotans? And, was that a bomb exploding? He said something about a testâŚ
Cheshie forced herself off the ground, with the butt of her javelin, she franticly glanced around the room, watching sight of Katau. âWhatâs going on here?â She called out to the okotan.
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